Yangon --> Inle Lake

After a couple days in Yangon, I decided to head up north to Inle Lake. I sat around the hostel while it rained for a bit, then got pick up in some sort of trailer, and was shoved in the back with some locals and a bunch of packages. It was about an hour ride to the bus “station” and it was so incredibly bumpy in the back of the trailer. I immediately regretted my decision to go braless that day.

Hanging with the hostel kitty during the rain

When we got to the bus “station”, a man pointed at me, helped me with my bags, then brought me to an area where a bus was waiting next to an open concrete room full with flies and stink. I use the term “station” loosely because it looked more like a market with buses occasionally coming in and out. I roamed around and started watching a women make Paan (I can't remember what the Myanmar people called it, but this is what wikipedia calls it. Here's a link to a description). The boys who worked for the bus company were hanging around too and helping her. As I watched, they offered me one, so of course I had to try it. It was weird. I think I was supposed to chew the Betel green leaf and swallow it, but the leaf tasted terrible. I was instructed to chew more. Whatever I was chewing tasted terrible, then at last, my spit turned beet red, just like the Myanmese men. A crowd gathered to watch the foreign girl try the local chew. They gave me high fives and it was awesome.

It had now been a while since I saw any other foreigners. I was getting worried, because I had no idea what to do. I was supposed to instruct the bus driver where to drop me off, then take a taxi from there to head to Nyuangshwe. I told the bus driver, but I might have mispronounced the township.

Lo and behold, lucky girl, I have become. When we stopped at our first rest stop of our 12 hours bus ride I was unsure where we were or how long we were to be there for. There was a man on the bus who spoke English, his hometown was Inle Lake, he was stopping at the same stop as me, AND his uncle owned the guesthouse I was staying at. He paid for my meal at the rest stop. It was a delicious soup made form fish bones, with beans in it, that he said was a traditional meal of the people in the northern part of the country.

We arrived in Nyaungshwe and his brother came to pick us up, and they dropped me off at my guesthouse.

Lucky me!

First Stop: Yangon, Myanmar

"So much to see, with nothing to see."

Yangon, Myanmar is not what I had expected. I actually felt frustrated and overwhelmed in the beginning. Maybe I was still upset about leaving Korea and my wonderful friends, maybe it was the big dirty city, or maybe it was simply culture shock. Whatever the case, the first 16 hours were annoying.

Upon arrival there was confusion with the airport pickup from my guesthouse, I was not picked up, so I started off a little anxious. The next morning, exchanging money was a blister in my butthole. Bills had to be American for the best rate and brand new and crisp with no creases, marks, or slight imperfections. I checked my dollars before leaving Korea and I thought they were fine, but upon closer inspection by money changers, they were not. I went from place to place, and they were very picky, I ended up getting a lower rate with my crisp $50 bills.

Shwedagon Pagoda

The travelers that are here are mainly older people, and most of the other travelers here are French. I was expecting there to be younger backpackers (like me), but I've ran into a couple cool people regardless.

Young Monks

After changing money and guesthouses to be closer to the city, I went to the infamous Shwedagon Pagoda. It was stunning! It was so vast and every inch of it was beautiful. I walked around it several times, and sat down to wait for the sunset, enjoying the vibe of Shwedagon. A monk sat next to me and enjoyed as much small talk as our language barrier allowed. We walked around the pagoda together as he gave me a guided tour, kind of explaining things. I had trouble understanding, so I just smiled and nodded. I do remember it seemed like each area in the pagoda represented something different. There was one area was for luck, where he had me pour water over a statue three times so I can be “lucky girl”, and there was another area for meditation. Even though I didn't understand much of what was going on, it was sweet to have a monk as a tour guide.

The food stand with various pig parts

After the amazing Shwedagon Pagoda, I was starving and decided to look for some noms. I wanted to try some street food but was a little hesitant. I decided to go big. I watched a documentary on my flight over about Myanmar; one of the foods featured was various parts of pig, including pig intestines. As I walked around I saw dozens of stands with the pig parts. I stopped at one that a family was running. I tried asking exactly what parts of the animal I was eating, but I still am not sure. One was something to do with the arm, heart, and something about blood. Whatever I ate was actually really delicious and tasty, but sometimes with a very odd texture. I think it’s better not knowing exactly what I was eating. The son and daughter smiled and giggled at me as I made funny faces while eating. I was joined by a local Myanmar man who would cheers his pig part skewer with me. He taught me to dip the skewer in the fat, then dip it in a red sauce provided on the stand, then chew. We laughed at each other, without knowing what the other was saying, then he paid for my meal! It was so nice of him!

The adorable daughter

Next, I wandered around looking for a beer. Found a place with seating outside, but with limited seating we were seated with strangers. I was seated next to an older gentleman from Quebec who I exchanged travel stories with, and who was enjoying his second visit to Myanmar after 20 years. It was interesting to hear what he had to say about how things have changed. He also described the city of Yangon best, "so much to see, with nothing to see". We enjoyed Myanmar lager and nice conversation, then when it was time to go he paid for my beer!

The friendly local who paid for my meal!

What a lucky day. I think I owe it to the monk and the Myanmese gentleman who had me pour the water on the statue.

Solid first full day in Myanmar.